Absence Makes the Heart Grow Fonder

Let me give you the low down on my school week:

• Monday: No class
• Tuesday: Human Geography, followed by a seminar
• Wednesday: Educating the Human Brain, followed by Social Constructions of Britain
• Thursday: No class
• Friday: Biology (all morning)

The whole "having to sit in class for more than one hour" thing is really throwing me off, but I think I'll live.
Anyway, I was sitting in Tuesday afternoon geography listening to the lecturer talk about what makes a place. "Place" as a concept here - a "place" could be your seat at the dining room table just as much as your home town is a "place." He showed us pictures of some of his favorite places, and asked us to think about what some of our favorite places are. I thought about mine:

1. Duluth, Minnesota
2. My basement at home
3. The bike trails back home

All of sudden, it hit me. Harder than anything I had felt on this trip so far.
I was homesick.
I missed Netflix on the worn couches in my basement. I missed the exertion of biking up and down hills. And I missed waking up near the awe-inspiring majesty of Lake Superior.
The feeling soon passed, but I was left considering how "home" had changed over the last year and a half.
Last year, as myself and hundreds of other freshmen settled in to college life, I would occasionally hear someone refer to their dorm or floor as "home." And this was always weird to me. I mean, yeah, it kind of was - it's where we slept and kept our junk. But to me, it was never "home." My room here has a much stronger claim to the term - considering I have my own bathroom and kitchen, and I have to do my own shopping and everything - but it still isn't "home."
Home to me is still the place where I grew up, all the way back across the Atlantic. I know this will eventually change, and that it's starting to change already. But they don't call it "homesick" for nothing.